A Harem
by Shocktrooper327
Summary: A Harem is a new above ground criminal organization. Operating in the day light of Los Santos is hidden behind a business front by the same name. Cameron a man that only goes by 'Boss' quickly and randomly puts together an executive team of varying criminals. How far can this syndicate become? Larger then life or destroyed by the insane personalities of the Boss and his executives.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Gathering**

 **Scarlet**

It was a nornal night, full of the usual suspects in the same old same old spot. We had taken over the top floor of a parking garage placed in the middle of downtown San Fuego. The cool air under a full moon was a nice change to the arid heat from the beating sun on blacktop. Many people all with different styles and tastes meet every weekend on this roof. One thing we all had in common was our one and only true passion, cars. Some liked them loud, powerful, and sleek. While others craved the attention drawn to their flashy cars covered in after market modifications.

This was my home, a place I was truly happy and feeling alive. Jose with his open air vintage Cadillac blaring tunes for everbody to hear from his second row of seats he converted to speakers. The bumping low riders and their hydraulics dancing to the beat of whoever had payed for next song. The women as they happily partied latching on to the driver of their favorite truly drove me to come week after week was the illegal street racing. I loved nothing more then the rush of adrenaline as the sound of my engine drowns my senses. The added bonus of wads of cash being given to the champion of the roads after each win only added to the desire. Not to mention the woman and their love of liquor that drove them to private parties back at my place.

This night was the same as any other that had occured before. Me drinking straight from a bottle of Jack leaned up against my ricer. A monstrosity of modern engineering I had won in a race over pink slips with someone whose ego was to big for his own wallet. Rightfully so after winning I repainted it a hot pink making the hood, skirts, and spoiler an ice white. Rocking some pitch black tinted windows to hide any prying eyes. As well as a few thousand dollars worth of upgrades to the sports car now packing enough horses to make a stampede that shakes the earth.

The inside only humiliating the old owner more as I spewed girly things into his old interior. Pink and white leather seats matching the steering wheel of the Elegy. A cute anime cat girl figurine hung from my rearview mirror giving a sly wink to the driver. My shifter a charcoal black skull with two pick gems resting in its eye socket. I stood there mid drink with a girl named Sky, or at least I think, resting her head against my breast as I had an arm around her. My back pocket vibrated as my phone went off reaching back there I check the caller. Who the hell is this? That is a Los Santos number.

I answer the unknown caller, "yo" hopefully heard over the engines revving in the background.

"Oh, wonderful I got in contact with my first one! Now hear me out for I give you an offer. I recently under grave circumstances came across large sums of cash. With said cash I want to make a name for myself with a business only I could make exist. I need someone like you, a fast person with faster cars not afraid to fly below the radar. Scarlet you are the perfect girl to be an executive in my start up company, A Harem."

I stumble over to one of the quieter corners when the sound of confetti poppers and party whistles can be heard on the other side of the line. "Congrats! I am glad you could join work starts Monday at 8:00 A.M. be there or be squared. Because I will put you and your car in a trash compactor if you don't!" With that he hung up, leaving me questioning was that conversation real, or did the drugs hit hard this time. On a chance that was real I should drive over to Los Santos Sunday so I don't get offed by a psychopath. With that I returned to the vibrant life of a street racer for one last weekend in my hometown.

 **Mark**

This party is crazy, almost as crazy as its host, me. I spared no expense at throwing this party I held every weekend. Like always I brought out the stereos that weighted more then a car. The lights covering my mansion always ready for me to hit start on the pre-programmed light show. Just like everytime I felt like throwing a party the lights shot into every direction covering everything in a half mile radius with rainbow swaying lights. The strobes so strong that it probably has brought some helicopters or planes down.

A flaming playlist drowning out the sound of the city around us. The bass vibrates so violently the frame of the mansion shakes with the music. The DJ up on stage controlling the crowd like puppets as he plays on his music board. The crowd a restless mob dancing to the music blasting their senses. Alcohol in everbodies hand as they try talking over the edm party. Only place with more alcohol is in the pool due to the wet bar constantly handing drinks out to party goers.

This was the norm for tonight; loud music playing in the background as people did lines of cocaine off naked girls. I loved this lifestyle of fame, money, parties, boos, and women practically throwing their topless bodies at me. Walking up to me came the strangest figure I have ever laid eys on. This man wore a bathrobe his bare hairy chest showing. His feet covered in brown cowboy boots wearin no socks. His eyes peering through the open mouth of a t-rex mask.

His muffled voice spoke out to me, "howdy partner, as a fellow millionaire I would like to speak to you about my new business I recently came across. One with grand adventures, high margins for profit, and most importantly follows bill 9035 section b paragraph 14 of California's legislature."

With that he quickly threw a business card my way like a throwing star. Without looking to see if I caught it he removed his bath robe going full spread eagle. On his back was a tattoo of an bald eagle flying away with an American flag. More suprising was the hundreds of bath bombs wrapped around his naked body. Jumping into the pool in a cannon ball the pool erupts with colorful bubbles. It quickly spreads through the pool engulfing those relaxing in the pool. With that the man was gone out of sight of everbody that attended, but definitely at the front of my mind. I like the sound of whatever company that crazy bastard runs.

 **Keaton**

"This is your captain speaking. We have arrived in Los Santos, local time is 6:42 A.M. hope you enjoyed flying with us." I rub my eyes after being woken up by the seat stirring next to me. When the aisle was clear I stood up reaching in the overhead compartment grabbing my military issued duffel bag. As I pushed my way through the onslaught of passengers trying to maneuver their way through the mini city that is Los Santos airport I began to think on my reason for coming to this big city on the coast.

I got a job offer through my normal means, but not for any routine merc work. A guy calling himself 'Boss' wanting me for an executive position in a new company, if you could call it that. More of a very sensitive job plastered in front of a crime ring. A common thing no doubt, but this one is not like any other I have heard of. Though I get a wage plus added incentives for every completed mission. Wouldn't be to bad; stay in one area, be an executive, make bank, and do what I love. All of it sounds like the perfect dream job I should snatch up immediately, so I did.

 **2 hours of traffic later**

"Your trip ended up being $35.75 sir." The taxi driver says to me looking thru the rearview mirror.

"$35.75 my ass" I say while stepping out of the taxi. Pulling a gun out of my bag I point it in his face causing him to speed away. Fuck Los Santos traffic, now I am late all because some fuck face ran a red light causing a collision. In front of me was a site to behold showing I was in the right place. Maybe ten feet from the front entrance a limo was parked blocking an entrance to a subway station. Not far from it was a black 1960's Corvette with two machine guns sticking out the hood.

On the opposite side of the street corner I stood was a car sized hole in a bush. Caused by the black Corvette since it still had leaves stuck in its grill. Next to that hole, actually in a parking space, was a pink sports car being hooked up to a tow truck. Not sure what car it was since it was modded so much, but it looked expensive and I bet the owner will be more then angry for any scratch caused during the tow. I let out a heavy sigh, "I can't believe who I an working with." I walk past the limo and up a small set of stairs entering thru the front door. Now all I have to do is hope I don't get fired for being late.

 **Seth**

It was any usual Monday, up on my schedule, no more worrying about school or shit. Heading over to Al's crib trying to get quick cash from work he always throws my way. Taking my usual route through the hood, making sure to stay away from common shootout places. With one earbud in I casually walked the pavement listeng to Skittle's new album that pitted him against MJ Jelly. Up beside me pulls a limo, looking over I pause my music seeing the window rolling down.

The biggest revolver I have ever seen sticks completely out the window. It shimmers gold in the California light showing detailed engravings covering the metal. "Get in here mother fucker!" I have never moved so fast in my life as I scrambled to the other side of the limo to hop in. Inside I finally saw the man who held me at gun point a second ago.

He wore a brown bear skin coat, even though it was mid summer, were he was currently storing his pistol in the left side of the coat. On his feet two mismatched flip-flops, but still not the weirdest thing about him. A t-rex head piece covered his face from me. The limo started driving as soon as I was in and no sooner did the only person in the back with me speak up. "You've been hired to my company and I am glad to have you on the team. I have heard great things about you from the only person I truly trust, my gut. It always tells me when I am hungry and it has never once been wrong."

Now I am nervous. This dude is a cannibal and he is going to eat me if I don't do anything. Reaching to my waist I slide my 9mm out slowly, trying to hide the murderous action from my oppressor. When suddenly we hit a bumb and the limo quickly stops. "We are here Rookie." He opens the sun roof as he pulls himself up and out as I get out the normal way. "Now we wait." He sat down on his roof dangling his legs right next to my head.

Maybe after a few minutes standing in silence two engines can be heard in the distance quickly getting louder. The sound of screeching tires and horns honking come from around the corner as two cars come speeding down the road. In front a pink ricer slams on its brakes causing it to spin around a whole 360 degrees as it slides in a parking space. Behind it was a black vintage sports car, sporting two LMGs! Without slowing down it drifts in between an archway crashing through a bush. As its momentum stops it sits just in front of me maybe ten feet, almost sending me to hell at a young age.

Out of the winner's car steps a woman with black pixie cut hair dyed red at the tips. She slips on a black flat cap with BOOP written across it using pink hearts instead of Os. Sporting a pink tank top and bedazzled denim jacket. Her black skinny jeans ending just above the ankle clashing with her hot pink Converse. Out the other car that almost killed me came a tall black man with dreads. Upon getting out he pulls on the sleeves of his blue suit jacket and buttons a single button. He fixes his white undershirt and black tie underneath the jacket that is tucked into his blue slacks.

He looks to the cannibal above giving him a smile, "good morning Boss. Hope you didn't wait to long for us. We did try our very best to hurry."

The girl speaks up this time, "what, witch one is da Boss men? Needer of em look to loaded to me." She pulls out a flask cocking her head all the way back as she adds more alchohol to her drunken state. The man on the roof of his personal limo stands up waving the two to follow him. "Let's talk in my office, since its a little more personal. You two Rookie, you've got the most to learn, so pay very close attention." Hoping off the roof he walks in the front door of the tall office complex. Having all three of us follow close behind.

 **Nathan**

Man have we been sitting here for ever waiting for the fifth and last guy to show up. I don't know why we can't start without him and just cut him from the deal. Who the hell is so important to wait thirty minutes for besides the great Stalin. Not much was getting done around here without him or this blasted meeting. Rookie was scared stiff sitting on the couch staring at the off TV. While Rose was sprawled out in a office chair passed out with a bottle of rum in her left hand. The Boss was doing who knows what on his computer unmoving this whole time. Next to him was a man counting a large atack of money over and over again.

I was over looking the city from the meeting room through the wall of glass. Sitting there holding my love, an AK-47, questioning this band of wack jobs. I should be in Mother Russia on a romantic date with Vladimir Putin as we fight bears bare handed; not here in the middle of a bloody desert. From the entrance we hear a ding of an elevator arriving on this floor. The secretary at the front desk yells back at us, "the last guy is here Boss!" From around the corner comes a man carrying a duffel bag.

He has a pretty stern look on his face as he enters the room. He looks pretty casual wearing a pair of blue jeans with a white wife beater and leather jacket. He has on black combat boots and his hair faded. Let me guess 'I could've been a SEAL, but I wanted to be a Marine.'

The Boss spoke up now that we were all here, "Everyone over to my desk. I need to do interviews, but that will take to long. So all of you will take it at once." We all moved over to his desk, even the Rookie who seemed terrified of the Boss. "Now who here has been to college?"

The drunk raised her hand and bottle up above her head. "I go to college all the time. There is always some crazy party with tons of liquor and sexy young ladies."

The Boss nods his head in agreement and types onto his keyboard. "Next question, what makes you qualified for this job, or why should I hire you?"

Next the crazy rich kid says, "I should be hired since everything I do is perfect and is sure to flourish. With me on the team you will makes thousands of more dollars."

With that answer the Boss gets back to typing and reads off the list of questions back and forth in a jumbled mess of short retorts. He lets out a sigh as he begins scrolling on the computer. "Name, Boss. Sex, often. Date of Birth, my birthday. Schooling, people who think they are hot shit, but they aren't. Job experience, Marine Infantry. Goals, none I don't play soccer. Why I am the best candidate, I'm awesome. What do I bring to the team, the liquor. Flaws, why am I here? Should you get the job, only if I get the job. Hire circle one of two yes or no, there is no one or two to circle. Sounds like a good resumè to me, you're all hired welcome to A Harem."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Get up

Keaton

 _This business is pure chaos._ It seems fine and respectable from the outside, or maybe even a short glance, but it is far from it. That does not even include the ragtag team of mental ward escapees that I now work with. Once you get past the stuck up secretary there is a 'waiting room' or better described as a living room for the drug cartel. The glass coffee table has a line of cocaine that was half finished surrounded by Scarlet's bottles of booze. An open weapons crate with four AK-47s in it is being used as a footrest for the couch. The TV has an old gaming system hooked up to it, but with only one game called Don't Cross The Line. Some action figures with their heads removed were taking up the love seat next to the TV and a toppled over lamp leaned on the chair.

In the same room was also Boss's office the cluttered mess that was. An open bar with enough liquor for a club, also enough LSD laying out on the table too. There was a wall safe behind his desk, currently cracked open, with stacks of cash tossed inside. On top of his desk sat a monitor the size of a small TV. With stacks of paperwork scattered everywhere and some more risque magazines cover the desk with loose bills sprinkled on top. A telescope pointed out the window in the direction of an apartment building.

Down the hall through two glass doors was the conference room we were at now. The large wooden desk had a map of the Los Santos area with a pile of cocaine sitting on top of Mt. Chiliad. On one end of the table is a machine gun propped up on its bibod; across from it was Boss nonchalantly pulling out his golden revolver and laying it on the table. With the clatter of the gun, everyone got quiet and focused on the Boss. "Now that everyone is officially hired I have to break the bad news to everyone. I can't pay you since I am a broke ass hoe. I spent all my money on this building, my new golf cart that can go 50 mph, a new wardrobe, this revolver, and on stocks."

 _What?! You're telling me the most important reason to be here is a lie, a scam? I can't believe this! I should shoot him where he stands and sells all his shit!_

Slamming his fists into the table the Boss speaks again. "But this is a good thing. You know can all work for your pay. Upon completion of jobs, you will receive your deserved pay. Lucky for you guys our work starts tomorrow. After today's team building exercise, we can start working towards a bank heist that will fund our operations."

The Rookie rose his hand waiting for the Boss to point his way. "A bank heist? I am a little confused. Earlier today I thought I was kidnapped by a cannibalistic cult leader. Then found out he is a business owner. Only to find out we are bank robbers that have no funds."

"Well, Rookie I am glad you asked. See when we rob this bank we will be on camera, most likely even the news. I can't be seen with you people as of now in your current state. Your outfits are atrocious. Also, you will need a mask to hide your identity and cool nicknames to use."

The girl, who has already sobered up, gets up from her chair. "I heard shopping! Let's go I'll drive." Pulling out her keys she quickly jogs over to the elevator. She begins rapidly pressing the button looking like a kid in a candy store.

* * *

Seth

 _I was so excited just seconds ago, just so it could be ripped so violently from me. Scarlet was wanting to take me in her car; not only take but let me drive that pink monstrosity of a car._ "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT HOLE OF A CITY THINKING?!" We had just walked outside only to find a very important key to our survivability missing. A very easy to piss off woman had the most important thing to her taken away just hours ago. Seemingly Keaton, when he arrived, saw a tow truck take her ride. Now we had to deal with a gun-toting madwoman more pissed then I have seen anyone before.

Already I could hear police sirens closing in obviously coming to the calls concerned citizens made about the she-demon. There two cruisers came sirens blaring and lights flashing. Four police officers stepping out raising their pistols. Nobody but I paid them any attention seemingly. I quickly raised my hands not wanting to die a second time today. "Ma'am please lower your voice and calm yourself! If you do not comply we will have to detain you! If you resist or get violent we will not hesitate to use lethal force!"

Quickly turning to face the police she slings a pink uzi from her under her jacket. Bullets being sprayed all across the cop cars causing the officers to scatter for cover. With a quick jerk, she begins dragging me in a full sprint shoving me into the passenger seat as she takes the wheel. With a screech of tires and police screaming as they jump out the way of their own vehicle turned rogue. Speeding down the downtown roads shifting between lanes surrounded by honking horns of infuriated drivers Scarlet tosses me her phone. "Open up my tracker device and tell me where I am going!"

Quickly tapping the tracking app it opens revealing a blinking red dot on the map and a fast-moving arrow on the screen. "Okay take the next exit then make a left; about a mile down the road it will be on our right. They are holding it in the Los Santos repossession unit." We move over four lanes of traffic as a car quickly gets out of our way to the exit, "shit shit shit shit!" _How am a still alive? Kidnapped by a maniac, shootout with the police, and now going 130mph down railroad tracks to go around traffic. If I survive today, then tomorrow is a bank heist with these people. My life expectancy went from somewhere in the 80s to 18 years old._

A train on a fast track to collide with us was madly blowing its air horn trying to get us to stop. Last second we dart right squeezing into an alleyway barely wide enough to fit the cruiser. Stopping next to a short brick wall, that detained a very special car behind it, we hop out jumping the wall and start running towards the car. With a click of a keychain, the car lights up as we dive in.

Kissing the steering wheel Scarlet begins talking to the car, "I am so sorry baby. Did they hurt you? Because mama will make them pay if they did anything to you." With that said she releases the parking brake slamming on the accelerator. The engine deafening and screeching tires that release a pink fog behind us as we drive through the gate to see three squad cars round the corner. Banking a quick left we bolt down the straightaway up to an on-ramp for the highway leading north.

Drifting the entire ramp, on the shoulder to pass cars, I feel like I am going to blow chunks. The thought of what would happen to me if I did the only thing keeping breakfast down. Upon hitting the open road I can see the flashing lights slowly fade into the distance. We are at 140 mph and still accelerating; the speeding cars around us just blurs as we zoom past them. When all of a sudden Scarlet's phone rings. Picking up the phone with her left hand and driving with her right, "Hey Boss, what you calling for? Yes, I am in my car right now. Why does that matter? Oh shit, we are on TV rookie wave at the police chopper and say hi to your mom. Don't worry Boss I can clean this up."

I roll down the black tinted windows I could barely see out of, the air flow hurting my face. Using all my force I push my upper body out the window against the wind. There are two choppers now barely keeping up; one police helicopter while the other was for the local news channel. "Holy shit, they have a helicopter! I don't think we can outrun them!"

With a grin stretching across her face, "we don't have to outrun them. Just sit back, relax, and watch how the best driver in the world does it." Yanking the wheel to the right we start going down a dirt road. Speeding down the windy small road that cuts through a wind farm at speeds I thought impossible. Behind us, an explosion goes off and shortly after the loud crash of steel falling into the earth. Looking behind us I see a fireball of an old police chopper and a news helicopter retreating to safety.

* * *

Nathan

The Boss wasn't lying about that golf cart. We actually got down the street pretty fast. Doesn't matter if we used the sidewalk instead of the traffic-filled streets. Now, all we had to do was wait for the drunk and Rookie to get back. They did put on a pretty good show from what the news crew caught. I guess she can do something if she isn't passed out drunk. The four of us stood outside of a thrift store so that we can get our wardrobe fixed by the Boss. _If this is where he shops no wonder he looks like this._ So far the people have been pretty wary of us and keeping their distance while they eye us. Guess that happens with this band of weirdos.

The golf cart was crashed into the metal bars that replaced the windows of the shop. While the Boss was talking with the girl that came out upon hearing the crash. Right beside him was the merc doing push-ups counting aloud. Mark was dancing on the roof of some guys car while the radio from the golf cart played 'his jam'. I just stood there taking in the scene while I was letting the LSD I took from Boss kick in.

After a few minutes, our friend's pink race car pulled into the parking lot. Rookie stepping out and quickly removing the contents of his stomach. Street racer got out talking to somebody about getting some rides shipped here on her phone. The Boss noticing our new arrivals quickly ending the girl's chit chat mid-sentence. "Let's start our team building exercise" Pulling the Rookie Scarlet hurries in right behind Boss. _I feel sorry for the kid. By the end of this he will probably be covered head to toe in pink_ The rest of us walking in slowly, Mark checking to make sure nobody saw him walk into such a place. _Now let's see what this store has in stock that can make Stalin proud._

Now it was time for Boss's fashion show were he, the manager, and the girl behind the counter are the other two judges. The first up was Mark who made a complete one-eighty in fashion sense. Wearing a red, yellow, and green undershirt with an unzipped green hoodie covered in pot leaves. His black sunglasses and red beanie that had his dreads sticking out. His grey sweats and his Jordans finishing the stoner look. The three judges giving him a thumbs up right after Boss whispered something into their ears.

I was up next to be judged on my secret get up. I had chosen to look like a middle-class white male American. Some brown loafers and khaki pants held up by my brown belt. My black polo shirt all buttoned up and my shirt tucked in. How much I hated wearing this cannot be measured with numbers. My sacrifice was not in vain as the judges liked how much I cleaned myself up though. _The sooner this is done the better._

Keat Skeet followed me with his outfit that would put an emo kid to shame. Head to toe there was nothing but black. His baseball hat, sunglasses, utility shirt, cargo pants, and his boots. The Boss having to say something, "what is that? We are robbing a bank. You have to be subtle, not looking like you are going to rob a bank. Go change now!" He trudges off to the changing room obviously a little grumpy as he grumbles to himself.

Next was what I thought was going to be a disaster, but turned out half decent. Rookie now looking like he has a spine. Black beanie and a pair of aviators that are clipped onto his white wife beater. His arms covered by a biker jacket with some gang patches on it. The silver skull belt holding up some ripped jeans sliding over some military boots. The judges appeased by the look with their thumbs up.

Last was fashionista coming up and striking a pose like there were cameras. Black heels with black knee-high socks. Wearing a plaid skirt with a white dress shirt tucked in. An unbuttoned black vest with red lining maybe a size too small. Finishing the look with a pair of really nerdy looking glasses. If it wasn't for the dyed lesbian haircut you would have thought she was a prep student. With three thumbs up and a sly wink to one of the judges, everyone had finished being judged.

With the one failure back into his normal clothes we still had two more stops. One was the Ammu-Nation right next door. We needed some firearms for this since we had four guns. My AK-47, Rookie's 9mm, Boss's revolver, and Scarlet's pink uzi. Afterward, we head to a small mask shop that sits on the beachfront so we can hide our identity.

* * *

Scarlet

Next door was nice, but this is a wet dream compared to it. A gun store that also sold all sorts of military-grade weaponry no question asked. Hell, I had to steal my uzi just to get my hands on one. All at an affordable price with discounts that are pretty often from what the owner said. I might just show up to this little chain of stores quite often. We had no idea what we would be walking into tomorrow, so we decided bigger is better as they say. Boss said he already had what he was using for the heist and that it was a secret. Knowing the Boss its probably overkill and a little ridiculous, but will get the job done. _So many choices, maybe I will choose them all. Wait no, I can't I must resist the urge._

I wasn't even the one having the most fun; that title went to the late guy. He was talking up a storm to the shop owner about firearms. The owner, seeing his love for guns, was pushing a bunch of guns on him and he bought all of them. _Where the hell are we storing this? My car doesn't have that much space and the golf cart isn't faring too well._ One gun on the wall caught my eye out of the 40 or so other rifles. A Thompson submachine gun a classic gangster weapon now used by modern street racer to rob a bank. I could only get it with the drum magazine and pistol grip. Of course, opting for it to be colored pink so that everyone knows who it's.

 _Oh, fucking hell! Damn Russian is trying to steal my apprentice_. Seemingly he was too broke to buy anything, so the Russian bought him something. Not able to buy anything but Soviet-made weapons he got him an AK-47 in a military black design. Only after buying himself an RPG-7. _Seriously... what the fuck is wrong with this store! It should be built all across America._

Mark, on the other hand, was thinking of us little people below him. At least as far as wealth was concerned. One crate of plastic explosives, a box of 20 hand grenades, a rack of military-grade body armor, and a refreshing soda of our choice. All with a catch of course. Us, except for the Boss, being slaves to load our arsenal into his oncoming ride. The golden SUV that will take us to the mask store and drop us off at our current living arrangements. Like students coming back from a field trip; only armed to the teeth to take on a city police force.

* * *

Mark

"OH SHIT!" Someone from the back seat yelled, hell maybe even both of them did. Boss seemed to not care, but how could he. He was the one that gave the directions through a red and golden Chinese archway. Following said path up some stairs sent us airborne over a few cars. I am sure the same words echoed out from the drivers underneath us. With a crash and some rattling from the explosives stowed in the trunk, we landed safely veering into our respective lane.

"HOLY FUCK!" Came from the two children in the back seat once again. This time looking up I could see the piping below a special pink race car. Flying through the air with the grace of a fighter jet. Landing far in front of us almost flying past our turn. Turning on a dime our speed chaser takes the shortcut through the construction zone. The workers scurry stopping what little work they do in a day to avoid the two-car convoy causing mayhem to the city. _Boy do I love Boss's homemade GPS he installed onto all our phones. Avoid traffic, get there faster, and have some fun doing it all pluses and no drawbacks._

Little to my surprise we crossed Los Santos in a mere 10 minutes arriving with plenty of daylight to spare. Driving down the crowded sidewalk to the locally owned mask and hat store. Everybody was smart enough to get out of the way of the cars. _Don't want to know what girly would do to someone if they bled or worse dented her baby._ Our slow roll coming to a stop in front of one man and his stand Baz's Masks.

Upon getting out one thing hit my nose really strong. It wasn't the expected fresh air of the sea, but of weed so strong I am surprised I could not smell it before we got out. Not sure if it was Baz himself or the shop next door. The weed dispensary next door still had a big sticker saying coming soon, but maybe they already moved their stock in. Though Baz seemed to be so completely stoned it would be hard to know who the real culprit was. Of course, Baz and the Boss seemed pretty close, especially since he never takes that mask of his off. How a shop that only sells shit like this stays open all year round is beyond me. Except maybe now I understand having some masks that cost as much as a down payment for a car. The collection is quite large covering all sorts of styles to suit whatever one was feeling especially this crazy bunch.

Without Boss's permission, our rabble stormed in picking out and trying on any mask we liked. There was plenty to sort through from dead presidents, actors, animals, clowns, freaks of nature, Halloween masks a long list that lined the walls of the small store. Rose was jumping at just about every mask checking herself out in the full body mirror in the corner. Holding onto a dozen or so mask my the straps in each hand as she posed in each one. She was jumping for joy while wearing an anime girl's face. Someone named Princess Bubble Star or something like that, not really my thing and all.

Rookie actually made a choice on his own and a damn good one at that. His mask looked pretty scary but was absolutely laughable in the end. It was a black ceramic oval with a thick line to see through. The only thing adorning the mask was a single bloody red handprint. Not sure why, but it gave off a creepy murderous vibe. Until he asked us what he thought of his mask. It was the voice of Mickey Mouse coming from a voice changer installed into the mask. Seemingly it was a failed mask for some private military, but instead of being demonic like they asked this one was cartoonish.


End file.
